


Demons of Berlin

by vikionline



Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: 1930s, Alternate Universe - Historical, Berlin (City), Gen, Multi, Supernatural Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-18 06:21:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29113701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vikionline/pseuds/vikionline
Summary: Berlin 1931, Wynonna and Waverly Earp are members of the Black Badge Society. A secret society that fights against dangerous supernatural creatures.They moved from the small town of Purgatory to Berlin and get confronted with fights against all kinds of demons in the turmoils of the late Weimar Republic. Luckily they're not alone.This is a historical adventure. Given the characters, we will learn a lot of things about (gay) culture in Berlin at the time.
Relationships: Waverly Earp/Nicole Haught
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	1. Welcome to Berlin

**Author's Note:**

> I saw @PurgatoryArcheo ask for a fic setting in the 1930s in Berlin. I thought, I'd love to read this, then I realised I'd also have to write it. Hopefully for you to enjoy.
> 
> A special thanks to my friend Patrick, who helped me to shape the story. Kai, who helped out with lots of research. Judith and Sonja who pointed out some flaws. Verena, who tried to explain grammar rules to me and Michele, who made sure it's actually English. 
> 
> All 13 chapters are written and will be released once a week.

**Thursday, July 23rd, 1931 - 7pm**

  
Warm sunshine fell on the front of Berlin’s Hotel Excelsior, highlighting the stucco on the arched facade framed by numerous pillars. 

In the main hall, proudly named ‘The Hall of Free Thought’ in large letters above the doorway, Wynonna Earp stomped through the lobby, passing stain-glass windows featuring popes, religious founders as well as Greek and Jewish philosophers, but she didn’t care. She was busy readjusting her black trouser suit that she had spent hours sewing, just like her grandma taught her, which was now torn on the left shoulder seam. Her long, wavy dark hair was tousled, and she had a fiery glint in her dark eyes. 

A young man at the entrance, wearing the hotel staff uniform, saw her. His eyes grew wide but he hastily opened the door just in time for Wynonna to storm through, and even managed to wish her a nice day. 

She left the hotel, still cursing under her breath turning around she looked up to the window on the fourth floor from where she just come. 

She had just exposed a scam artist who tried to take money from his clients with fake séances, and instead of thanking her, that rich bitch and her friends had kicked her out of the room. 

She finally turned around and an elegantly dressed elderly man almost ran into her. “Look out where you’re going!” he said in a grumpy voice looking her over with disapproval. She mumbled an apology, her ice blue eyes glued to the street. 

“I swear, people here get mad just because they love to get mad.” She grumbled while pulling her jacket straight. Sewing her own clothes, especially trousers, was her way of rebelling, which made her even more furious about that snob tearing her beloved clothes. During the ruse in the hotel room she had even lost her hat, but there was no way she was going back inside. 

  
Holding her head high, Wynonna went to the tram station at Potzdam Square. She would never get used to this city. Even after almost six years of living here some things were still strange to her. Nonetheless, Berlin was the best choice she could have made for herself and her sister. Even if it was just a temporary refuge, not a home. 

They were helping the Black Badge Society to unravel supernatural incidences. Most of them were swindlers, but some were real threats that had to be stopped. She wouldn’t have believed it if she hadn’t seen these things with her own eyes. Looking back, maybe she shouldn’t have announced the existence of demons out loudly, repeatedly. It would have spared her time spent in the institution for hysterical women, as well as the merciless rumours back in her small hometown in Canada. When Juan Carlo, the mysterious founder of the Black Badge Society, offered to get the two of them to Germany, she didn’t think twice. 

She made a living with her sewing, but since the recession she got less and less commissions. Luckily the pay from the Black Badge Society had kept them above water. 

Her sister Waverly fell in love easily with the city and the love seemed to be mutual. She learned the language in no time and quickly adapted the local dialect, which the people here loved to hear. She dragged Wynonna to numerous theatres, of which there were forty-nine in the city. Wynonna had counted them. Not to mention the music halls, operas and cabarets. Lucky for her, Waverly had soon found Nicole for these activities. 

  
The tram was full of people, there was no place to pass through, so the conductor yelled at the new passengers to show their tickets. Wynonna knew the drill by now. She showed her ticket to the nearest passenger who confirmed it to the conductor in the front. Strange people. 

  
About half an hour later she crossed Herrman Street and entered the cemetery of the Jerusalem and New Church, passing numerous graves and signal poles for the new airport in Tempelhof. 

In the graveyard stood a small shack. Just above the entrance big letters announced ‘Zauberkönig‘ which translates to ‘King of Magic‘ in English. 

Wynonna knocked on the backdoor of the closed magic shop. Arthur Kroner opened the door, “Wynonna, good to see you,” he said with a friendly smile. Arthur was a chubby man in his mid-fifties. He and his wife Charlotte inherited the shop from Charlotte’s father, the great magician Josef Leichtmann. They were also members of the Black Badge Society, so their shop had quickly become the meeting point for them all. In contrast to Wynonna, they didn’t go out on missions. 

All members of this secret society knew that supernatural creatures existed and that they could be dangerous. They only called each other by their first names in case anybody overheard the seemingly crazy theories they used to discuss - one of the rules Juan Carlo had laid down as security for them. Also, something about how names are powerful, but Wynonna never fully understood that part. 

“Good evening Arthur,” she answered as she entered the cosy room in the back of the shop. It wasn’t luxurious, but more than they had in many other places, with a small fireplace, a couch and a table, surrounded by enough chairs for everyone. 

Waverly and Nicole stood close by the fireplace and talked vividly. The fire lit up Nicole’s long red hair as she smiled down at Waverly in adoration, whose cheeks looked red in the light of the fire. Their slim figures almost seemed to be one with the backlighting. They didn’t even realise that Wynonna had entered the room. She was used to that by now and would tease her sister for her behaviour later. Those two could forget everything around them. 

  
Tonight, the society had some important things to discuss. Headquarters had even sent a member from Canada over for that matter. A letter from the society a couple of weeks ago described the theft of a manuscript that contained instructions on how to summon a dangerous demon. 

Suddenly the door burst open and a man was dragged into the room. His fine suit was ripped, and his dark skin glistered with sweat and blood. He was heavily bruised and barely conscious. To his right was a man with a prominent moustache, with blue eyes fixed on the injured man, and to his left was a smaller, younger man with tanned skin and curly dark hair. They helped him to the nearest chair. All eyes were set on the trio. “At least he can sit on his own,” the smaller man commented with a light British accent, what do you think, Doc?” Doc, the man with the moustache, shrugged and inspected his condition. 

“How on earth did you manage to get into a street fight? I truly don’t know who of them hit you the hardest. You are lucky Jeremy and I got you out of there before they killed you,” Doc grumbled to his patient. “Jeremy, please go to Rosita’s and get some drugs for his pain and some bandages.” Jeremy nodded and with one short look around the room he quickly left. 

As soon as Wynonna unfroze, she went to the chair and kneeled down to have a better look at the injured man. Without the swelling bruises on his face he was handsome, the tornup shirt gave her a glimpse of defined muscles “Who is he?” she asked. 

The man on the chair managed to crack a smile despite the pain. “I’m Xavier Dolls. Please call me Dolls, everyone does. The Black Badge Society sent me with information, but I clearly chose the wrong road to get here.” Dolls smiled at her and Wynonna couldn't help but smile back. 

“He'll be fine” Doc said, laying a hand on her arm in a familiar gesture. Wynonna looked at the mustached man, trying to find the hidden message in his eyes. 

  
Waverly interrupted the tense moment, “It’s nice to meet you, Dolls. We prepared the couch for you, that should be more comfortable than the chair.” 

With that said she helped lift Dolls from the chair and onto the couch, which was now covered with a sheet. Waverly might be small, but she was surprisingly strong. Dolls grunted in pain as they lifted him onto the sofa. 

Nicole had left the room and came back with Charlotte Kroner, who was almost 50 years old, with a friendly round face and her dark hair pinned up. They carried a bucket of fresh water and some clean towels to wash the wounds of their newest guest. 

  
Soon after Jeremy reentered the room behind a small woman with long, curly, dark hair and slightly tanned skin, who carried a basket full of bandages and some flasks. “What happened to him?” she asked without a greeting. Rosita wasn’t a member of the society, but she helped them out occasionally. 

Doc answered without looking up, “He was on his way to meet Jeremy and me. When he didn’t show, we got worried and then we heard the chanting and fighting. We got there as fast as possible, but he was already in the middle of a street fight between the KPD, the SA and the police. The police used batons, so I just hope he has no internal bleeding. Broken ribs for sure, and we need to clean this nasty cut on his leg. The other injuries seem to be just bruises, nothing too serious.” 

Dolls let his head fall back in defeat. “The way you talk, it seems these street fights are nothing out of the ordinary.” He shook his head, “These gangs just showed up, I didn’t fully understand what they were shouting, and before I knew what happened they started fighting and both chose me as the target. When the police arrived, they thought I was part of the gangs, and did not ask questions before they struck.” He looked up at Jeremy and back to Doc, “I think I owe the two of you my life.” 

Jeremy answered “Just be more careful when you’re able to walk on your own again, will you?” 

Dolls grimaced, “I’ll try, but I still don’t understand. What are the KPD and the SA? Does this happen often?” 

Jeremy looked a little guilty and explained, while Rosita and Doc bandaged Dolls’ wounds. “Well, maybe we should have warned you before, but it’s so common. A fight like this happens every week. The KPD is the Communists Party, the SA is the paramilitary wing of the NSDAP, the National Socialist Party. Sometimes the workers’ movement or the red front fighters league are involved in these fights as well, and the police are not squeamish, especially with the communists.” 

Wynonna watched silently as Doc and Rosita patched up Dolls. Berlin could be dangerous these days. Since the depression people have gotten increasingly angrier and more aggressive. 

Just one hour later Xavier Dolls looked quite impressive as he stood in front of the small group, despite his injuries. “I’m here because we got information that a group is preparing to summon the demon Marzaniok into this world. The scrolls that describe the ritual were stolen from the society’s archives three weeks ago. The trail leads to Berlin, but from there we lost track. That demon is extremely dangerous and has the ability to change reality as we know it.” He looked everyone in the eye for a moment, “The notes in the society’s archives state that they’ll need five magic items to connect to the demons’ realm, as well as a vessel to summon the demon into, and a special star constellation. It’s powerful magic to call a mighty demon from another realm into this world without a prior bond. That is way too much power for anyone to use. We have to stop this!” He looked around again. “Has any of you found any clues since our last correspondence?” 

  
Jeremy eagerly stood up and began to speak. He was nervously fumbling with his pen. “Last night I overheard three people at a bar. I knew they were up to something when I saw them entering and I sat close to them, without attracting their attention.” He smiled brightly and seemed proud of his accomplishment. “I overheard them saying that this week, during the new moon, they needed to act. That they have the plans and the tools to accomplish their goal. So tomorrow night they’ll meet at the opera, but they didn’t say which of the three operas in the city.” Once again he fumbled nervously with the pen as he looked at everyone in the room “I know, there is a slim chance that these are even the people we’re looking for. I’ve spent every evening since we got your message in numerous locations with connections to mystics and spiritually inclined folk, but have obtained no helpful information. On the other hand, I can tell you a lot about my future, the star’s influence on my life and how I will meet my true love now.” He grinned almost apologetically. 

“Thank you, Jeremy,” Dolls said softly, “We need to follow every lead at the moment, and there are enough people here to split up into all three locations if necessary. Anything else?” Jeremy shook his head and sat down. 

Wynonna looked to her sister who nodded and shared a brief look with Nicole, who was sitting next to her. They were in agreement. Nicole gently pushed Waverly’s lower back to help her stand up. Waverly smiled at the gesture and took Jeremy’s place in front of the small group. “As you all know, I work as a telephone operator. Since we learned about the demon, I started looking out for dubious calls that could have a connection to the summoning.” 

She took a deep breath and opened her notebook. “About a week ago I overheard a suspicious call about a clearly secret meeting in Kronstadt Pub, a Russian bar in Nürnberg Street, between Stephan Schulz, a politician of the national conservative party DNVP, and someone I couldn’t identify. The call came from the bar. The meeting will take place next week Friday at 8pm. That’s all I have for now.” 

She looked up to Dolls, who listened intently. “Thank you, Waverly.” He wrote something into his notebook and seemed surprised when Nicole stood up. 

“I looked through newspapers and found a couple of encoded messages in them. The most promising to our case is one by the ‘Sons of the Sun’ as they sign it. They scheduled a meeting next Sunday at an art exhibition of Paul Cassirer in Viktoria Street.” 

“How did you know where to look, Nicole? There are over forty newspapers published in this town every day!” Jeremy asked. 

Nicole smiled, “I work as a type setter and therefore have been observing what gets printed for a couple of years now. You’d be surprised how many secret codes are embedded in them. By now I’ve learned what to look for and where to search for it.” She smiled and sat back down. 

Next Arthur cleared his throat. “I looked in our books. During the last two months nobody purchased any items you would use for a summoning ritual.” 

Wynonna looked at Dolls and, like everyone else in the room, waited for his estimation. 

  
It had been a long day and Dolls clearly needed to rest soon, but he managed to stand up again and summarised, “Thank you all for your research. We have three suspects and can't rule out any of them at this point. Let’s determine how to observe all three operas tomorrow. Where can we meet tomorrow afternoon to work out a course of action?” He quickly sat down again. 

“I’m sorry,” Arthur said, “we need this space for a customer’s meeting tomorrow.” 

After a short pause, Waverly said, “The Hirschfeld Museum and Institute is close to all the operas, and we won’t draw too much attention there.” They all agreed and soon left the magic shop. 

Wynonna made sure that Dolls got back to his rented room in one piece to get some rest, before she headed back to the apartment she shared with her sister and Nicole.


	2. Three Operas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Following the first lead. Stake-outs are allways fun, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have a wonderful day everyone! Today is my birthday and I love to share more of this story with you.

**Friday, July 24th 1931**  
The next morning, while eating breakfast in the apartment’s kitchen, Wynonna, Waverly and Nicole discussed the events of last night. With their earnings combined they could afford an apartment with a kitchen, personal rooms, a bathroom and a spare room to use for Wynonna’s sewing and their Black Badge research files. 

  
“I feel sorry for Dolls. It’s horrible that he had to run into this street riot. Could we have done anything to prevent this?” Nicole asked.   
Wynonna took a deep breath. “I don’t know. I can’t think of anything. We didn’t know what time he was arriving, and those fights are just unpredictable. I just hope he recovers soon.” She took a sip of her coffee. “Until then, we better prepare for the surveillance, because that man is very determined about his mission and I wouldn’t want such a strong, handsome man to be mad at me.”   
She grinned, but Waverly rolled her eyes in response. “Really, sis? What about Doc?”   
Wynonna shrugged, “his family doesn’t approve of me anyway.” 

  
After breakfast, Waverly stood up and carefully laid a map of Berlin on the table. She marked the three opera houses with onions. “We have to observe these three locations. The State Opera in Charlottenburg and two operas at Unter den Linden. Those are about 5 kilometres apart, with the Tiergarten in between. I doubt anyone can switch locations fast enough if anything happens. That means we'll have to split into two groups.” 

Wynonna nodded. “At every Opera we must position people strategically to have everything in sight. No easy task with such a small number of people.” She spread five grains on the map.   
The Black Badge Society had never been big in numbers and Berlin was a newly founded branch created only to observe a suspicious increase of supernatural activity. 

  
A couple of hours later they sat in a parlour built in the 18th century. The parlour belonged to the famous Hirschfeld museum. The room was mostly populated by elderly ladies and amicable young men. It was located at the north end of the Tiergarten park and lay in the middle between the three operas they had to survey later this evening. 

Dolls still had to recover, which left only five of them to watch out tonight. Jeremy was the last to arrive, while Doc sipped on his third coffee. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t leave work earlier,” Jeremy said and took a seat next to Doc. He worked as a researcher at the Emperor Willhem Institute of Chemistry and you just can’t leave when Otto Hahn, the head of the institute, schedules you for a meeting. 

“Don’t worry,” Doc answered, “It’s a nice location. I’ve never been here before, but I adore the decor. As apparently do many ladies.”   
He looked comfortable, which made Jeremy chuckle nervously. He leaned closer to Doc and said, “You do know, that these are not really women, right?”   
Doc looked irritated and Wynonna tried to stifle her laughter.   
“The Hirschfeld museum of sexuality belongs to the 1918 founded Hirschfeld Institute that examines sexuality in different forms. So this quickly became a meeting point for men with certain,” Jeremy hesitated “shared interests.” He spoke in a low voice while he closely watched Doc’s reaction. 

“Oh,” was all he said at first, “I didn’t know that,” as he looked around curiously. “Impressive what they can do with make-up and clothes.”   
“We thought it’s a good meeting point,” Nicole explained, “Nobody asks too many questions around here.”   
Wynonna punched Doc’s arm, “It’s impolite to stare. Now let’s talk about tonight. We have to split up in two teams. Metropol Theatre and the Prussian State Opera are close enough to act as backup, but the Municipal Opera is in Charlottenburg.” 

“Jeremy and I will look out at the Municipal Opera then. The three of you can support each other at Unter den Linden,” Doc offered.   
“Good,” Wynonna answered, “We will meet again tomorrow evening at the Zauberkönig. Who else wants something to drink?” 

  
Later that night, they split up. It’s unexpectedly tough to sit around at one place for a long time and still look inconspicuous, Wynonna thought while she sat on a bank across the street of the Metropolitan Theatre. She wished she had a newspaper with two holes in it to look through. The electric lantern would even emit enough light to read. Actually, it was just plain boring. Wynonna sat there for hours and tried to stay alert, but nothing had happened so far. She sought out eye contact with Nicole, who stood on the other side of the street. She shook her head. Nothing. 

_Municipal Opera_  
It was 3am when Doc saw two men sneak towards the opera building. The opera was an impressive, huge building in the architectural style of historicism, with pillars that lined the main entrance. The figures vanished around the back of the opera. Slowly, Doc left the corner where he’d been hiding for the last couple of hours to follow them. Just as he looked around a corner, he saw one of them holding a hand lantern, while the other tried to free parts of the drain pipe with a crowbar. 

Surprised and angry Doc took two steps forward and yelled, “What are you doing?” The men jumped backwards with shock. The lantern fell on the ground while the man who had held it sprinted away as fast as he could. The one still holding the crowbar stared at Doc in confusion. As Doc took another step towards them, the guy also turned around and ran. 

  
Doc sprinted after the fleeing thief. The man looked back, estimating how much lead he had over his pursuer, when Jeremy jumped in his way. They collided and rolled over the asphalt as Doc arrived and pinned the thief down with all his weight. “What were you doing?” he asked angrily. 

“Get off me,” the man on the ground exclaimed. He tried to free himself from Doc’s grip, but he was thin and not very strong. He realised that he didn’t stand a chance and pleaded instead, “Come on, it’s just some copper drain pipe. They’ll replace it in no time and my family is starving. I just got back on my feet after the fucking inflation only to lose my job again. Damn black Friday! All I wanted is the rain gutter from the opera where the elite,” he spit the word more than he said it, “enjoys their Saturday evenings. I don’t want to be in the poor house again!” He squirmed and kicked as he spoke, but Doc’s grip was strong.   
“Then why don’t you use your energy to look for an honest job?” Doc growled.   
“Why the new moon?” Jeremy interrupted, after he had gotten back to his feet, after all they weren’t chasing thieves. “What’s so important about it?”   
The man on the ground stopped moving and looked irritated at Jeremy. “It’s darker than usual. Even with the modern electric lights in the city, it makes a difference. In some places.” He even had smeared dirt on his face in order to darken it to be less visible at night, Jeremy just realised. “What a flop!” 

  
“What shall we do with you now?” Doc asked the man on the ground, who started squirming again. “Maybe I should drag you to the police.   
“It’s not worth the trouble,” Jeremy stated, “You know it doesn’t look good. The wealthy fund poor houses as a hobby because so many people are still struggling since the recession of ‘29. Just let him go.”   
Doc didn’t look happy, but reluctantly he let go of the man, who didn’t hesitate to run until the night absorbed his figure. Absently Jeremy rubbed his left arm. To Doc’s questioning look he answered, “That staff I got hit with yesterday wasn’t made of rubber. It still hurts.” 

Doc shook his head, “You’re tougher than you look. Let’s call it a night.” They walked home in silence, both lost in their own thoughts. 

  
The same evening at the apartment in the worker district Neukölln, Wynonna sat in her room sewing while Waverly and Nicole sat at the kitchen table cutting some onions, Good-King-Henry and peeling potatoes for dinner. 

“I set an article yesterday about the female police looking for officers.” Nicole mentioned nonchalantly.   
Waverly sensed there was more to that statement than informing her about Nicole’s workday. “Really?” She asked waiting for Nicole to go on.   
After a moment of silence Nicole went on, “did you know they investigate cases involving children and sexual assaults? Also, cases that involve young women up to the age of 21. The criticism that some cases need a more empathetic approach has finally paid off.”   
“Was this all part of the article?” Waverly asked patiently softly stroking Nicole’s arm. 

“No,” Nicole looked guilty, “I visited Inspector Nedley, you remember him? He helped me when I was a kid and my parents were too high on cocaine to care for me. He also gave me my first job doing secretary work for the police department.”   
“I remember him but wasn’t his name Nedler?” Waverly asked now fully facing Nicole.   
“Yes, it is, but everyone calls him Nedley. He promised to one day share the story behind it.” She shrugged. 

“Why didn’t you stay at the department in the first place? You liked the job, didn’t you?” Waverly asked further.   
“Well, it was always a day job, then you have to apply again every day against two dozen other women to get hired. It’s not an income I couldn’t rely on without a husband who supports me, you know,” she winked, “as a typesetter I knew I have a job every day and they prefer to hire women, because we make less mistakes.” She grinned at that. 

Waverly quizzically looked at her, “but now, you want to become a police officer?”   
“I didn’t think it was possible. You know I grew up among my parent’s artist friends in pubs and cabarets of questionable reputation, with aunts and uncles whose love was forbidden, but I’d love to help people, especially those most vulnerable.” Nicole confessed, “but Inspector Nedley said I stand a chance and that he would help me.”   
Waverly gave her a kiss on her cheek “I think that’s wonderful. Tell me if I can support you somehow.”   
Nicole’s smile grew wide “I will.” 

**Saturday, July 25th, 1931**  
The next evening, they met again in the magic shop. Even Dolls was there to ask what they had found. “Nothing,” Wynonna said with a discouraged face, “How about you?”   
Jeremy let his shoulders sink. “We surprised some copper thieves, that’s all. Nothing supernatural and clearly not the demon summoning wizards we were looking out for. I misread their intentions.”   
Waverly patted his back, “No worries. You couldn’t read their minds. It was a good lead though,” she said.   
“We prevented them from stealing the rain drain from that beautiful building. That’s not nothing,” Doc added. He still seemed unhappy that he had let the man get away with it. 

  
Dolls listened in silence and nodded. “Well, nobody said this would be easy. Next we will go to the tea house where Arthur Scholz is meant to meet someone secretly. We should follow him too, in case the venue changed.” Dolls seemed eager to do something. The rest of the group didn’t seem as happy for more hours of waiting to see if anything would happen. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The selection of veggies was a little different back then. Good-King-Henry: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blitum_bonus-henricus


	3. Russian affairs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This week we'll follow up on the suspicious call of a politician and someone in a Russian bar. What is it about?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again thanks to Michele for fixing my mistakes.

**Friday, July 31st, 1931**  
It was pouring rain when Jeremy parked his car, a Ford Model A, close to Mr. Schulz’s house but not in front of it. Nicole sat on the passenger seat, eyes locked on the entrance. “Is it safe to leave your car here? In case he doesn’t drive,” she asked, glad to sit inside the car where it was dry. She admired the car every time she rode with Jeremy. He had even taken his friends to the international motor show the year before. 

“Sure, in case he changes the meeting point. What do you think he’s up to? Maybe he is seeking supernatural help to win an election,” Jeremy speculated as he ate some nuts. He had prepared for a long wait and offered Nicole some as well. 

“No, thank you,” Nicole said, as she watched the door intently. “I don’t know. Maybe he wants this political chaos in the parliament to end. Only a miracle could achieve that.” She cracked a smile. 

“You mean he’d walk into parliament and make all 15 parties work together?” Jeremy retorted, “stop governing solely by emergency decrees?”   
“Give millions of laid off workers their jobs back, end the still increasing poverty, and stop France from occupying the Ruhr area again!” Nicole added with enthusiasm. 

“Why just in Germany?” Jeremy asked. “Just end the Great Depression worldwide. End poverty, stop the attack on welfare, give independence to India.” He grinned, satisfied with his picture. 

“Wait, how does independence for India fit into that?” Nicole asked, but they didn’t have time to speculate further. The front door opened, and a sly, tall man appeared with a briefcase in his hand. He folded the collar of his coat up and quickly ran to a nearby parked car. The rain poured off his hat as he entered the car, driving off. 

  
Jeremy and Nicole followed him for some distance, but there were other cars on the streets that disguised their chase. Most of the cars were black, and as Henry Ford had once said, “You may have our cars in every colour as long as it’s black.” 

They almost lost Mr. Schulz's track when he took an unexpected left turn, but Jeremy kept his cool blindly turning onto a parallel street, hoping to catch up. 

**_Kronstadt Pub, Nürnberg Street_**  
In the meantime, Dolls, Wynonna, Doc and Waverly sat at different tables in the bar and observed people going in and out. Wynonna had insisted on staying with Dolls, who still shouldn’t have be moving too much. Waverly's language skills would be helpful in the Russian pub. Many of the guests were Russian descendants who had come to Berlin after the great war and lived in this neighbourhood. 

At about 6pm Wynonna saw a chunky man in his fifties, with a briefcase in his hand and a white scarf hanging loosely around his neck, coming into the tea house. The man hung his coat and hat on a rack and underneath he wore an indigo suit. He was clean-shaven, his hair dark and full. Many of the guests greeted him as he walked past to a table in a corner of the pub. The table was strategically placed - just far away enough from everyone else that it was impossible to overhear a conversation when the place was well attended. He lit a cigar and ordered a vodka while he set his view on the entrance. 

  
Half an hour later Stephan Schulz entered the pub; his wet overcoat clinging to his slim figure. He hung the mantle and bowler at the entrance, wiping his thin moustache, before he looked around. His eyes found the chunky gentleman in the corner as he went over to him. The man stood up and greeted him with a handshake and a tiny bow of his head that Mr. Schulz returned. 

Nicole and Jeremy entered ten minutes later and joined Waverly at her table. 

The men sat down and talked too quietly to be overheard in the crowded bar. Dolls stood up and went towards the washrooms. He overacted his injury and walked slowly, passing close to the table where the two gentlemen were talking secretly. 

Wynonna quickly understood a gaze from Dolls and followed a couple of minutes later, slowly passing the table. She got a short glance at a photo that the unknown guy was showing Mr. Schulz. Everyone took turns to stand up and walk around, each one passing by the table of the politician and the businessman to eavesdrop on parts of their conversation. 

One by one they gathered at Waverly’s table to exchange information. Wynonna and Doc made a point to greet everyone over enthusiastically, clinking glasses and toasting loudly until Dolls forced them to tone the show down to draw less attention. 

“The other man is Alexander Ulanow. He is a well-respected businessman, who earns his money with imports mostly from Russia,” Doc explained in between toasts. 

“You mean the extreme clean-shaven man without an Adam's apple?” Waverly said with a laugh. Dolls almost chocked on his beer “What? Are you sure?” He looked at Doc, who was left speechless. 

“Yes,” Waverly, Jeremy and Nicole answered in unison. Jeremy explained “Her disguise is amazing, but you can see through it when you know what to look for. Most people just don't pay that much attention. They see what they want to see.” 

Wynonna took a deep sip from her beer to disguise her grin and said, “I saw a photo of a vase that Mr. Ulanow showed Mr. Schulz. Did anybody hear what that was about?” 

“I’ll go get some more beer,” Dolls exclaimed walking to the bar again, slowly passing the conversation in the corner. “You’re right, Waverly. Cheers!” he said when he returned to their table. 

“They were talking about police presence in this neighbourhood when I walked by, but it sounded like a more general topic,” Nicole said. 

“They talked about custom fees earlier,” Jeremy said, and Nicole confirmed, “I think Mr. Ulanow wants Mr. Schmidt to help get this vase Wynonna saw to get through customs.” 

Wynonna stood up and walked to the bathroom. When she came back, she saw that Mr. Schulz had stood up and grabbed a briefcase, but not his own. The briefcases stood next to each other and the table hid them from most angles, but Wynonna had made sure to recognise the similar looking items when they first sat down. It took some willpower to walk back to their table without rushing. 

“They just switched the briefcases. I knew it!” she whispered with enthusiasm without sitting down. Behind her Stephan Schulz put on his coat and hat and left the bar. 

“Should we follow him?” Jeremy asked, but Dolls shook his head and looked at Wynonna, who still leaned on their table with both hands. 

“We gonna ask this gentleman some questions. Come with me Wynonna, I look intimidating, you ask the questions.” He grinned at her. Wynonna clapped her hands once and grinned back. This time they walked directly to the table. Wynonna took the seat opposite of the businessman, while Dolls took a chair from a neighbouring table to sit down. His hands crossed over his chest. 

“Good evening Mr. Ulanow,” she said emphasising the title. She leaned closer, both arms resting on the table.   
“Excuse me, do I know you?” Ulanow said with a smoky voice, Russian accent and an annoyed intonation. He sat back in his chair as if he wanted to get some distance from these unexpected guests. 

“You don’t know us, but we know that you just made an illegal deal with the gentleman who just left, and that you’re not as male as you try to appear. So why don’t you just tell us what this is about, before we tell anybody else about it?” Wynonna said in a low but threatening tone. 

Ulanow’s eyes widened in fear, just for a moment before he regained his composure. “We talked about some art that I want to import. Why would that bother fine people like you?” 

Wynonna grinned like a jackal. “The vase, we know. Tell us why we shouldn’t go and talk to customs? Also, a woman leading a business sure does not sit well with many customers. What do you think?” 

With a sudden movement the businessman leaned in. His face only centimetres away from Wynonna's and hissed, “Shut your mouth! You don’t know what you’re talking about!” Wynonna didn’t flinch, she just grinned and the man sighed in defeat. “I built all of this up to keep my family safe. To keep this community safe. I make transactions and keep contacts. Legal imports and I procure things that people can’t get otherwise. In exchange, nobody claims an interest in the Russian immigrants and this neighbourhood,” she said in a slightly higher voice than before, “I could not do this as a woman, but Alexander Ulanow is a respected man and we all agreed that nobody asks too many questions about him. Do you understand what you’d destroy if you told people my secret?” She looked Wynonna straight in the eye while she spoke, and Wynonna understood the message only too well. They could reveal the secret, but she would pay with her life for the attempt. 

“Look,” Wynonna said, “We don’t want to hurt your community, just tell me why this vase is so special and we’ll leave. Your secret is safe with us.” She took a deep breath and added, “We are trying to stop a crime that could hurt many people in this city. Our leads so far are this vase or Paul Cassirer’s art gallery.” 

The businessman's face softened a little. “Fine. The vase is an old antique from Russia. The seller claims it’s centuries old and of course priceless. Personally, I think, it’s hideous, but the client is king, so I don’t care.” She shrugged “Mr. Cassirer opens a new exhibition on Sunday. I’ll get you two invitations to the event, so nobody will stop you from investigating. But your friend here is quite,” she looked him over, “eye-catching.” She said derogatorily. Dolls didn’t move but silently followed the conversation without changing his expression. 

“He’s irreplaceable,” Wynonna answered. She didn’t like the way her counterpart talked about Dolls “I’m Wynonna and this is Dolls.” She tried to change the tone of their exchange. This woman had impressed Wynonna. 

“You may call me Mr. Ulanow,” the disguised woman said in a low, stern voice. Leaning back in her chair, “You can come here on Saturday and get your invitations from the owner, Mr. Koshin. He is the man with the pointed beard and glasses behind the bar. I’ll leave the names blank, just in case you change your mind. Now, please excuse me. I have some business to attend to.” She emptied her glass in one go, took the briefcase and stood up. “I’m sure we’ll meet again,” she said and left the pub. 

  
“An impressive person,” Wynonna said when they sat back at the table with their friends. She summed up their talk and took a sip of her beer. 

“Maybe the invitations will help us on Sunday,” Jeremy said, but he didn’t look convinced. 

“You can’t give up so easily,” Dolls said. “It’s not easy to find a lead in a city like Berlin. It’s a needle in a haystack. We’ll need to remain patient. 

“Dolls is right,” Nicole said, “but tonight we can celebrate his quick recovery. Who wants more beer?” All hands went up. Nicole stood up and ordered a new round of beer for the table. Together they would find the scrolls for sure, but tonight they had to teach Dolls to look every person in the eye that he clinked his glass with. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's hard finding a lead in a big city with so much going on. I hope you like exploring it with me.   
> You can find a historic map of the city here: https://tools.wmflabs.org/historicmaps/berlin/
> 
> After the Russian Revolution in the 1920 Berlin was a temporary home for more than 400.000 russian immigrants. They shaped the culture in the city, opened businesses, publishing houses and newspapers and many russian artists lived and worked there.


	4. City of Art

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An ecrypted text from a newspaper leads them to an art gallery auction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thanks to Michele for beta-reading.

**Saturday, August 1** **st** **, 1931**

Once again, they met in the back room of the ‘Zauberkönig’. 

They heard voices before they entered the room. One voice belonged to Jacob Kroner, Arthur and Charlotte's 17-year-old nephew. He raised his voice, “Those friends of yours hate Jews! Why can’t you see that? They hate me!” 

Another boy, around 16 years old, stood close to Jakob and answered, his hands laying on Jacobs shoulders, “They don’t hate you. They’re talking about these rich people who throw expensive parties while the men on the street have lost their jobs and can hardly survive after the inflation destroyed all their life savings. Those rich Jews that undermine our politics and manipulate it to their will; that’s not you!” 

Jacob shook his head in disbelief, “They treat me as if I’m not even German! How can’t you see this? How could you become a member of the NSDAP Youth, Paul? How could you?” 

Paul took a step back as if Jacob had slapped him, but then his face hardened. “You’re just biased. If you gave them a chance, you’d realise that they’re nice. Sure, they’re a little rough sometimes, but those are just words, you can’t take everything they say seriously. Come on.” He stepped closer to Jakob and spoke softer, “They helped us when my family had a hard time. They were there for me and even got us medicine and extra food! Imagine that! We desperately needed it and they made it happen. You are my best friend, Jacob, but they’re my friends, too. I just want you all to get along. Is that too much to ask?” 

Jakob visibly deflated, “Fine, I’ll try, but I still don’t trust them.” In a placated voice he added, “Let’s go to the bar and you tell me everything about this beautiful girl you can’t stop talking about.” He put his arm around Paul’s shoulder, pulling him to the exit. Paul smiled brightly. The boys greeted the visitors as they left. 

“We don’t trust his new friends, either,” Charlotte Kroner said after her nephew and friend were gone. “They’re hateful people.” 

The group sat down at the table. Wynonna placed two DIN A54 papers with a golden border and fine letters that stated: 

Invitation to Cassirer Art Gallery Auction 

Sunday, 2nd of August 1931 at 6pm 

Viktoria Street 35, Berlin 

An auction about the triumvirate of German Impressionism 

The artists Max Liebermann and Max Slevogt will personally attend 

A line in the middle was left empty to write the guest’s name on it. 

“Who will be going? Also, what’s impressionism?” Wynonna asked. 

Doc cleared his throat and sat taller in his chair, a proud smile on his face. “Well, Impressionism is a relatively new art movement. Painters started to create their works outdoors to capture short-lived impressions. Hence the name, and that’s why they put emphasis on accurate depiction of light in its changing qualities. It’s also characterised by relatively small, thin, yet visible brush strokes, an open composition, ordinary subject matter, the inclusion of movement as a crucial element of human perception and experience, and unusual visual angles.” It sounded like a quote from a textbook*. 

Dolls grimaced and rubbed his temples. “I didn't understand half of what you just said, Doc. Maybe you should just go. A high society art auction is not my preferred scene.” 

Doc straightened his posture and looked to Wynonna. “I'd love to attend the auction with a beautiful lady by my side.” He held his arm out for Wynonna to grab. 

She hesitated only for a moment, then a smile spread on her face and she said in a fake lady-like voice, “What a charming invitation from such a gentleman. I'd love to join you.” She affectionately put her hand on his arm, leaning towards him. Dolls’ eyes followed her movements. 

“We don’t know much about the intentions behind the message,” Nicole had entered the room silently after them, with some newspaper cut-outs and a notebook, “The decrypted text reads: ‘Sons of the Sun, next art auction at Cassirer, take A3947’.” She gave her notebook to Wynonna. “I also wrote down some information about the gallery and its owners for you. The founder, Mr. Cassirer, took his own life five years ago. Now the gallery and publishing house belong to Walter Feilchenfeldt and Grete Ring, who bought it from his daughter. Grete Ring is related to the artist Max Liebermann, who the gallery represents.” 

Wynonna took the notebook. “We’ll see what we can find. I’ll have to sew an appropriate dress for the occasion,” she changed her posture, “to blend in with the rich art lovers.” 

They laughed at her depiction of an upper-class lady. 

**Sunday, August 2** **nd** **, 1931, 4pm**

Wynonna and Doc stood at the entrance of the Art Gallery, Doc in a well-fitting tuxedo and Wynonna wore a fine, formfitting gown she had just finished last night. Actually, she had made some adjustments to an existing dress, but the men wouldn’t question it anyway and she enjoyed the thought of her superpower being able to sew a stunning dress in just one night. It was black at the hem, softly flowing around her legs. A belt out of the same fabric accented her waist, above that the front was full of embroidered, golden patterns, ending in narrow straps with a deep V-cut at the back. 

They showed the invitations to a young man in formal attire at the entrance. “Welcome to Cassirer's Art Gallery,” he said. “The auction will start in about an hour in the upper hall. Until then you can examine the paintings in the exhibition rooms on the first and ground floor.” 

Thanking him they entered the lobby. 

While they roamed the rooms of the gallery, they looked for anything they could link to the information Nicole had encrypted from the newspaper. 

When they entered the roof-lit hall on the second floor, Wynonna tugged on Doc's arm and dragged him towards a painting of flowers in a blue bucket. “Isn’t this our number?” she asked in a low voice and pointed to a small sign next to the painting. 

“I think it is indeed,” he answered softly in her ear. “This is the number under which this painting will be auctioned off. But what does a flower painting have to do with a summoning ritual?” He raised his eyebrows looking at Wynonna. Maybe this was another false lead and the Sons of the Sun were just enthusiastic about nature paintings. 

A man with short ash blond hair and broad shoulders in a badly fitting suit approached them. “I wouldn’t bid on this one. It’s not one of Slevogt's masterpieces. On the contrary, there are much better artwork around, trust me.” He sounded friendly and casual, but waited until they thanked him and moved on, skipping a couple of the exhibits to get some distance from this stranger. 

“That guy’s intimidating. Have you ever seen him before?” Wynonna asked Doc. “Or do you know anything about the artist? Slevogt?” 

“He is indeed,” Doc replied as he looked back. “That poorly dressed man is showing no interest in any other painting.” He pulled Wynonna to stop in front of another picture. “About Max Slevogt, I know that he is an impressionist best known for his landscapes. This gallery represents him and he’s even here tonight.” 

They looked around and Doc pointed to an elderly man with glasses and wildly standing up white hair. 

“Excuse me, Mr. Slevogt,” Wynonna approached the painter, “may I ask you some questions about your flower still life?” 

The man turned towards Wynonna with a curious look, “Of course Miss. What would you like to know?” he said with a Bavarian dialect and a grandfatherly smile. 

“Thank you.” She smiled back politely. “Is there anything unusual or outstanding about this painting of yours or its history?” She consciously avoided using the term supernatural. 

He nodded, then faced the painting in question, but his eyes were unfocused, “I was assigned as a war painter at the west front during the great war. There was this painter in Düsseldorf, Bertram Köhler was his name. A weird person as I heard. He disappeared during the war and his possessions were auctioned off. He had painted a dreadful and hideous picture in various brown tones. It looked like hell on earth with obscure symbols all over it. I bought the canvas and painted those peaceful flowers over it. For me this is a symbolic way of healing after the horrors of war.” 

She hardly listened after he had mentioned the symbols. “Can you remember what those symbols looked like? Could you write them down for me?” She nervously reached for a pen and the small notebook in her purse, holding them out to him. 

Max Slevogt slowly turned back to her. For a long moment he looked at her as if he could find answers to unasked questions in her face. Finally, he shrugged and took the pen and notepad. With closed eyes and furrowed brows, he stood still before he started drawing the symbols. Time and again he stopped to close his eyes again. Wynonna concentrated on every line, while Doc looked around and hoped the man who was practically guarding the flower painting wasn’t paying attention to them. 

It took a couple of minutes until Mr. Slevogt handed Wynonna the notepad back. “That’s all I can remember. Did you know Mr. Köhler?” 

Wynonna briefly looked at the symbols and quickly put the notepad in her purse, out of sight. “Thank you very much.” She thought of an answer, “Ah, yes Mr. Köhler was well known for his symbolic art. It was so unique. I have no words to describe it. Thank you again for your help.” She quickly withdrew them from the conversation, avoiding further questions she couldn’t answer. 

“I think that’s it,” she whispered excitedly into Doc’s ear. She didn’t understand the symbols, but they seemed close enough to those she had seen in Waverly’s research materials. This couldn’t be a coincidence. “We have to find out who’s so interested in this painting.” 

Doc agreed, “Let’s stroll around and have a closer look at the guests, my dear.” As always, he was familiar, safe. Wynonna relaxed in his calm presence. 

Ten minutes before the auction, the owners of the gallery, Walter Feilchenfeldt and Grete Ring, addressed their guests and asked them to take their seats. The auction was about to get started. 

Grete Ring presented the paintings in a good temper and gave a short introduction to every piece. Cleary she knew what she was doing, given she was an art historian. 

While Doc listened intently, Wynonna took out the notebook and wrote down what they’d just learned. After a while she started doodling. When the flower still life was brought up Wynonna straightened her posture, sat alert and watched the bidders. 

Even the starting bid was more than Wynonna or Doc could afford, so all they could do was watch the bidding. 

The work wasn’t in much demand. Only three different people bid on it. An elderly chubby woman with so much jewellery on her that it seemed to weigh her down. She sat in the front row and had bid on almost every painting. A tall, slim man with the stiff posture of a soldier, dark thick hair and a circle beard, also bid. He sat in the middle and had only bought one other painting at this point. A man with broad shoulders, grey hair and sideburns, who constantly had a grumpy look on his face was also bidding. He sat in the last row and had bought two other paintings. On a closer look, the woman next to him seemed to give him instructions. She was about his age, around 70 years old, had pinned up her long grey hair in an orderly bun, and emanated authority. 

In the end, the soldier was the most persistent and won the flower painting. 

Doc leaned in, “That’s Friedrich von Liegnitz, a distant relative of the emperor. He’s known to be charitable and a proper aristocrat.” 

After the auction had ended, they saw the aristocrat speaking to the intimidating man who had approached them at the flower painting earlier. They shook hands and both stiffly bowed to each other, then parted. Friedrich von Liegnitz paid for his paintings and left the gallery, followed by two employees of the gallery who carried his safely packaged paintings to his car. 

Wynonna and Doc met the rest of the group back at the ’Zauberkönig‘. Wynonna laid the notebook on the table while they told them about the auction. 

“Bertram Köhler?” Dolls asked, “I heard about him. He gambled with black magic, but suddenly disappeared. We didn’t get much more information during the war though.” 

Wynonna opened the notebook at the page that showed the symbols, and everyone leaned forward to get a better look at the drawn markings. 

“These are the ancient alchemist’s symbols for sun and moon,” Jeremy said, 

“Look at that pentagram. If that’s not magic stuff, I retire,” Wynonna called out pointing to the page. 

“Those are Cyrillic letters,” Waverly added, “Hard to read, but I think it says,” she squinted and turned the page a couple of times, “Mrzanok?” 

“Marzaniok!” Wynonna exclaimed. “Son of a witch, we got you!” 

“This means, a group that calls themselves Sons of the Sun tried to summon this demon. They just retrieved one artefact that they can use as a focus. We know that this Friedrich von Liegnitz belongs to this group,” Nicole summed up taking notes. “Now we can observe Mr. Von Liegnitz. We should also have a second look through the newspapers to find out if this group has used this way of communication more than once. But I need some volunteers for that, it takes too much time for me to go through all of it alone.” 

Everyone agreed to help. 

“We can take my car and get the papers right now,” Jeremy suggested. 

The members of the society were excited to finally have a lead. Motivated to find more, Nicole and Jeremy left and came back about an hour later with a huge stack of paper in their hands. 

Nicole took the newspaper she first found with the code of the Sons of the Sun. 

The group patiently listened to her explanations on the code and what to look for. “We should work in temporal order, starting from the date when I found the announcement for the art auction. We should first search the papers that were printed after that date, then go backwards and see if they used this code before.” Nicole took the smaller stack of papers and handed them out. Wynonna groaned in annoyance. This was going be a long night. 

They worked mostly in silence, only the rustling of newspapers filled the room. 

Suddenly Waverly looked up from the paper in front of her. “I remember now why I know this name! Some time ago I met a young woman named Christina. She told me, that she was the housemaid of Mr. Von Liegnitz!” Waverly said with wide eyes, happy to finally remember the connection, “she seemed nice, maybe she’ll help us.” 

“That’s great, do you know where she lives?” Wynonna asked eagerly, hoping to get away from this boring task. 

“Yes, she has a small room under the roof of Mr. Von Liegnitz city house.” She answered. 

“In that case, we should observe the house until she goes out, starting tomorrow.” Dolls decided. 

They didn’t find any messages after the auction announcement, so they started retrospectively. 

The room was quiet again, everyone sat crooked over an article, when suddenly Jeremy jumped up.“I’VE GOT SOMETHING!” he exclaimed. Doc fell off his chair and Arthur,with the hand on his chest, looked like he’d just had a heart attack. 

Nicole went over to study the article that Jeremy had read. “He’s right. This reads‚ ‘Sons of the Sun. Glory at the soup kitchen in Bellevue Palace’,” She deciphered slowly. “The soup kitchen opens every Sunday in Bellevue Palace since the emperor lives in exile. This article was published just two days after the scrolls were stolen.” 

“Right, Bellvue Palace was the emperor’s residence until after the Great War.” Waverly added, “but why there?” 

“Clever bastards!” Dolls growled, “Who would suspect anything at a soup kitchen? Let’s see if there’s more before that.” 

Arthur and Charlotte excused themselves at midnight. Doc’s snoring filled the room. Wynonna lay on the table; her breathing was even and peaceful. When Waverly fell over, Nicole caught her and said, “We should go home. There's nothing we can find like this. Come on, sweetie.” She helped Waverly stand up and rubbed her back. 

Dolls agreed, “You're right. Let's call it a night.” He and Jeremy took the papers and sorted them into different boxes while the rest woke Wynonna and Doc up. 

Waverly snuggled into Nicole’s side on their way home. The streets were empty at this time of night, and nobody cared about the three women walking home. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Because it is: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Impressionism


	5. The Housemaid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team observes their suspect, but it's not that easy to get a hold on the aristocrat.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thanks to Michele for beta-reading.

** Monday, August 3 ** ** rd ** ** , ** ** 1931 **

On Monday morning the society started observing the three-story city house of Friedrich von Liegnitz.

He left his house early in the morning, and Dolls followed him.

Wynonna sat on a bench in front of the house for several hours. Nothing happened. She had read the newspaper in her hands ten times by now.

She slouched over the bench, watching people walking by while her eyelids became heavier and her head fell on her chest. In order to find something to keep her awake she went to a nearby kiosk. She didn’t want another newspaper, so she bought a penny dreadful instead. Anything other than politics, even something she would normally never read. Desperate times, desperate measures she thought. 

Back on the bench she was just a few pages in, when a middle-aged woman sat down next to her “Fräulein, you read them too?” She said with a rich Berlin accent “People tell me it’s a waste of time, but the stories are so beautiful and lovely. Don’t you think?” 

Wynonna looked irritated but said nothing. Which didn’t bother the other woman at all. She kept going on about how wonderful the stories were. 

A couple of minutes went by where Wynonna listened to gushing summaries of penny dreadfuls when another woman came up to them. “Matilda, what are you doing here? We’re going to be late!” 

“Just five minutes, it’s nothing.” The woman replied, wiping the comment away with a wave of her hand.

“Five minutes early is German politeness!” The other woman stated indignantly, before she practically dragged her friend away from Wynonna.

“Just wait till the end, you’ll love it.” The woman said before she left Wynonna alone and followed obediently to wherever she was going. 

In the late afternoon a slender woman with long dark hair and a friendly round face left the house. According to Waverly’s description this had to be Christina.

Wynonna followed her to a narrow two-story building. In a window on the ground floor, the well-lit room cast shadows on the curtain that seemed like a well-attended gathering of some sort. She saw the woman knock, the door opened, and she went inside. 

“I guess it’s worth a try,” Wynonna mumbled to herself. She followed Christina’s lead and knocked as well. The door was opened and a scraggy face, surrounded by long white hair of an old woman appeared in the doorway “May I help you?” 

“Yes, I’d like to join in.” Wynonna said with a hopefully convincing smile. 

“Of course,” the woman stepped out of the way and fully opened the door “did you see the advertisement or one of our flyers? Welcome to our little club, it’s always nice to see new faces,” she gestured to the room behind her, “you’re just in time for the speeches. I’m Helena and you are?” 

“I’m Wynonna. Nice to meet you.” She said and stepped inside the salon. She mirrored Helena’s  behaviour in an attempt to blend into whatever gathering she had just invaded. About twenty women stood there in small groups and talked. She saw a speaker’s desk upfront and rows of orderly arranged chairs. There were some flyers on one of the tables. As soon as Helena turned away from her, she went for an inconspicuous look at the handouts. Big letters announced ‘Join the Federation of German Women's Association and change your future!'. 

Christina stood in a corner and chatted with some of the other women. Wynonna could not get near her before Helena clapped her hands and asked everybody to sit down. 

Wynonna sat down one row behind Christina, who waited in silence and listened attentively to the speaker.  Of course they were all women, and judging by their appearance, they were all part of the working class. 

One speaker told a fiery speech about the necessity of women in parliament and in positions of power. It’s only the start that women may vote, they should have a say in the decisions as well. 

During the long and dull lecture Wynonna examined the other women in the room. She saw a woman in her 50s, well dressed, with short dark hair, that she couldn’t place, but she seemed familiar. The woman caught her staring when a mixture of fear and anger washed over her face. She quickly turned back to the speaker in order to face away from Wynonna. 

“ _ What is that all about? _ ” Wynonna thought.

After the speaker ended, the social part of the evening began. Wynonna walked up to a desk were Christina stood with some other women. They were chatting without taking a break, their language full of slang and  colourful descriptions that Wynonna had a hard time following. She felt clumsy in her attempt to start a conversation, and it took her forever to finally introduce herself. She also failed to get Christina to talk about her employer. Christina loved to talk, and she was passionate about feminist causes, so Wynonna mostly listened. 

Later that evening, she  realised that the woman with the short dark hair always seemed to be as far away from her as possible.

As the crowd slowly left, Christina turned to Wynonna, “It was so nice talking to you, Wynonna. Will you come again to the meeting next week?” 

“Yes, it was lovely. Maybe I’ll bring along some friends.” She  said . '

_ ‘Waverly _ ,’she thought, ’ _ she’s so much better with people _ . _ ' _

Dolls had found out that Mr. Von  Liegnitz was meeting with political friends all day long. Nothing pointed to his plans about summoning a dangerous demon into this world. They took turns observing the man, depending on their work schedules. 

The following days weren’t fruitful. On August 9 th everyone in town talked about the  Büclowplatz murders the day before, when two policemen were shot, but Friedrich Von  Liegnitz seemed unaffected by the event. He had nothing to do with the communist party and their increasingly violent fights with the police. He hardly left the house and when he did, his appointments didn’t point to further plans of the Sons of the Sun. Doc had brought up the idea to search his house in order to find something, but the house lay on a busy street, which made it almost impossible to break into it without being seen. Picking the lock would simply take too long. Christina was not the only employee in his household, but the only one who also lived in the house. 

“Sons of the Sun. What a stupid name is that anyway?” Wynonna asked frustrated while she walked around the neighbourhood with Waverly. It was Sunday and they had found nothing yet. 

“I don’t know.” Waverly shrugged, “at least we can go to this Suffragettes gathering tomorrow and grill Christina for information.”

** Monday, August 10 ** ** th ** ** , ** ** 1931 **

The next day, Wynonna, Waverly and Nicole knocked on the door to join the women's meeting. 

This time the woman who spoke condemned masculine sexuality and its suppression of women. She addressed an apparently earlier discussion about the spread of illness and prostitution with the suggestion of a woman named  Asenijeff . “Emancipated women who want to invent things could best help other women by inventing a coin-operated automat that would satisfy the ten-minute love of man.” 

Wynonna snorted out loud at that remark. She got some looks of disapproval but didn’t care.

This time, during the social gathering, Wynonna let Waverly and Nicole talk. Her eyes were wandering through the room and again she caught the woman staring at her, who she was sure she knew somehow.  Again the woman looked away quickly when Wynonna caught her staring. 

Waverly and Nicole got Christina to talk about her employer, but it was apparent that she would not rat on him. She told them, that he was a conservative man, who believed in the monarchy and mourned the loss of the emperor. In her words, he was a man of honour, the patron of many charities and he wasn’t cruel.  Apparently she had a good job, that she wouldn’t risk for some strangers. 

They parted again with the promise to come back the next week. 

** Monday, August 17 ** ** th ** ** , ** ** 1931 **

Another week passed by without another promising encounter.  Again they took turns in observing the nobleman, but he was too cautious. A new course of action was overdue.

Monday  evening they sat in the women's association and listened to the passionate speech of a tiny woman with a surprisingly loud voice.

“We won’t be silent. We won’t retreat.” She declared. “For the woman power and strength are characteristic…” Wynonna zoned out at this point till the end of her speech. 

While Waverly and Nicole once again engaged a passionate conversation with Christina, Wynonna faked a faint and grabbed for Christina’s dress to hold herself up."I’m so sorry,” she uttered,I just need some fresh air. Excuse me.” She quickly went outside, while Waverly and Nicole were holding people back who tried to follow her.

She could feel the weight of the keys in her hand as she rushed out to get some air, fighting back the victorious smile on her face until she walked out the front door. The warm air of an August evening fanned her as she walked down the street to meet with Dolls and Doc on a side street. “Here is the house key. Hurry up, we only have two more hours before she’ll go home.” 

The two men nodded and swiftly went over to a red Ford, where Jeremy waited for them. 

Lucky for them Friedrich von  Liegnitz was a creature of habit. He met his political friends every Monday and never came back home before midnight. 

The house was empty, silent and dark. The second key Dolls tried opened the front door. They split up, looking for the study. Every time the lights of a car illuminated the rooms, they froze.

They didn’t have much time but didn’t want to get caught either. On the second floor Jeremy whisper-yelled “I found it, the study!” 

There was a big, solid oak desk dominating the room. It had a thick vanished tabletop with a leather edge. The walls of the room were decorated with packed bookshelves. 

Hastily the three man quickly searched the space, careful to put everything back the way they found it. “No traces!” Dolls had impressed upon them. 

Suddenly they heard a car in front of the house, but it didn’t pass by. The car lights lid up the room and all three ducked holding their breaths. The light went out, they heard muffled voices in front of the house. Dolls sneaked to the window and looked down. He saw a man and a woman entering the house next door. 

Relieved he breathed out, “The  neighbours came home. We need to be careful when we leave. Now go on!”

They went on to the desk, but none of the drawers revealed what they were looking for. “There could be a secret drawer,” Jeremy said, “my dad has a couple in his desk. Feel if there's a button under the desk. The spot usually feels a little smoother than the surroundings.” 

“I think, here's something.” Doc said, and with a silent click a secret storage appeared out of the thick desk. Doc pulled it all the way out “Here, I got it! A calendar!” 

“Jeremy, close the curtains, I need more light.” Dolls ordered. He lit up a candle and copied every appointment into his own notebook. “I got it, now we need to get out of here, time is almost up.” 

Jeremy opened the curtains again, Doc put the calendar back in the drawer and they left the house without a trace. 

Back at the women’s meeting, Jeremy lit up the car lights three times. Shortly after, Nicole came out taking the keys back. “I started getting nervous, guys. Did you find anything?” 

Doc smiled proudly “We found his schedule. Next Monday he’ll be at the  Philharmonic to a Concert of the Comedian Harmonists.” 

Relieved Nicole went back inside, and discreetly handed the keys to Wynonna. Wynonna maneuvered them back into Christina’s pocket, who had been trying to leave for the last ten minutes at this point, only to be stopped by yet another question from Waverly. With a wink to Waverly she smiled and said goodbye to Christina. 

After Christina left, they grinned at each other, relieved that everything went according to plan. “What are you up to?” Asked a strangely familiar voice with a slight Russian accent behind them. They turned around and saw the older woman with short, dark hair and a distrustful attitude that Wynonna noticed at every meeting, who had seemingly tried to avoid her.

“Nothing.” Nicole answered way too fast, in a too high voice. 

“I don’t know what you want from poor Christina and I frankly don’t care, but if you want to support our movement, you have to do more than listen to our speakers with a bored face.” She looked directly at Wynonna “So, will I see you at the protest on Saturday?” 

All three nodded dumfounded and stared at the woman in front of them. To fill the uncomfortable silence Nicole spoke up “Oh, I heard there is a Comedian Harmonist Concert in the Philharmonic soon. Should we go?” 

The dark-haired woman laughed “They sold out weeks ago. See you on Saturday!” Without further ado she turned around and left. 

A couple of minutes later they were all squished together in  Jeremys car. “How do we get into a sold-out concert?” Nicole asked.

“I don’t know. Black market? Sneaking in? Maybe they still look for helping hands?” Wynonna suggested and shrugged her shoulders. “We’ll find a way.” 

Jeremy drove all of them home. Their successful today gave them confidence for what was yet to come. 

** Saturday ** ** , ** ** August 22 ** ** nd ** ** , 1931 **

“Why are we here again?” Wynonna asked for the fifth time this morning.

“Because,” Waverly answered patiently,“ “we promised to support this women’s rights march. It’s also a good thing to do.”

They meet with the women’s group at the east end of  Tiergarten . There were maybe fifty women gathering around the woman with the short black hair and the Russian accent. Some of the women bought signs with them. They saw Christina as well, listening to the older woman giving instructions.

Waverly went to the group and asked Christina, “Who is that?”

“Oh, that is Lara Oparin. She is one of our fearless leaders, she isn’t afraid of anyone,” she answered with admiration and shining eyes, while another woman shoved a protest sign in Wynonna’s hands, who passed it on to Waverly without even looking at it.

Marching down the street they loudly cascaded their demands: ‘Same work, same payment!’ or ‘Send girls to school!’ 

When they got near the parliament, they saw a group of men blocking the street.

“ Scheiße !” one woman next to Wynonna cursed, and slowed her pace.

Their route led them right towards the group that was waiting with threatening postures, standing tall and with the certainty of superiority on their faces. On the sidewalk stood small groups of women yelling at them to stop.

But the suffragettes would not stop. With Lara Oparin in the front row, who made no attempt to slow down, nobody else did.

They stopped directly in front of the men. Most of them stood in a wide stance, arms crossed, and shit eating grins on their faces. “How did you get away from the oven?” one yelled at them.

“This is a permitted demonstration. Please leave the street!” Lara declared in a loud clear voice standing tall in front of them. Silence followed her declaration. Some of the men looked at each other, unsure of their next move as if they hadn’t expected any resistance at all. The other women were fixated on the group in front of them, afraid of what might happen next.

“HUSSIES!” shouted the man that spoke before and rushed forward. His hand clenched into a fist he aimed at Lara with a wide punch. Lara still appeared calm. She took her sign and rammed the handle into the stomach of the man approaching her, ducking his punch. But the others had already followed his lead. Most women in the front row tried to run away but they collided with other women behind them. Screams filled the air. Wynonna instead tried to get to Lara, Nicole, Waverly and Christina behind her, but she had to push through the crowd fleeing in terror. On her way, Wynonna picked up one of the protest signs someone had carelessly dropped. Nicole and Christina followed her example. 

By the time they got to Lara she stood isolated, surrounded by the men attacking her. With commitment, the four stood  protectively around Lara, showing their support, the signs in front of them like swords, ready to fight. That stopped the men in their tracks, Lara was not an easy target anymore. She didn’t look at her new supporters, but a smile appeared on her face while a little blood dropped from her split and swollen lip.

But the frozen state of indecision didn’t last long. A tall and muscular man decided to throw a punch towards Lara again. Others quickly followed his example and pushed forward. 

Wynonna didn’t wait for a hit as she swung the sign like a baseball bat and hit one man in the head. “Take that opinion, asshole!” She shouted out. He stumbled back but right away another took his place. 

Waverly rammed her sign in one guy’s impressive beer belly before he had the chance to get too close. He collapsed and stumbled backwards, pushing several of his friends back with him. The men needed precious seconds before they could regroup. 

Nicole blocked punches, using her sign as shield. She had just diverted a man’s arm who had aimed at Waverly, letting the cardboard with the words “the future is female” fall into his face as another man with short blond hair aimed for Lara’s blind spot. Nicole saw the attack in the last moment and tried to block his punch with her arm sliding between the man and Lara, but she was a split second too slow. She slowed his punch down but his fist still hit the side of Nicole’s neck. She stumbled backwards, holding her head, her face distorted with pain. Waverly witnessing the scene while yelling in shock, running to catch her. 

At the same time a sharp whistle cut through the air. The Police! With some force they pushed between both groups to separate them.

The pulsing pain in her head made Nicole dizzy, but there was no time to attend their wounds, they had to quickly leave the place before the police started to arrest protesters and attackers alike. 

They got away with only got some scratches and Nicole had to lean on Wynonna and Waverly on their walk home. 

After they got away far enough, Lara said: “Thank you a lot for your help. I won’t forget that you stood next to me. I underestimated you.”

“Anytime.” Wynonna grinned, “but we have to get this one to a doctor first.” 

“No, I’ll be fine.” Nicole insisted, “I just need some rest.”

“Goodbye and stay safe.” Lara said and left. Wynonna, Waverly and Nicole went home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the womens meetings I used historical quotes. 
> 
> If you have any questions, ask away. I have tons of historical sources that I worked into the story.


	6. A friend, a good friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their suspect goes to a sold out concert of the Comedian Harmonists.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thanks to Michele for Beta-reading.

**Saturday, August 22** **nd** **,** **1931, 7pm**

Nicole went to bed as soon as they arrived in the apartment. She felt exhausted and had a horrible headache. Waverly made sure she got everything she needed, before she joined her sister in the living room. 

The sisters sat down and drank to their victory. Winning this fight made them feel alive and their spirits high. 

“Let’s be real, you loved the protest. You've always been a rebel, Wynonna.” Waverly laughed, “No need to deny it.” 

Wynonna set up a shocked face “Me? I don't know what you mean. I've always been an innocent angel.” she grinned and took a sip of the Whiskey bottle in her hand. 

Waverly shoved in her side “Sure. Remember, when you encouraged me to explore myself and learn what I preferred, before I dated anyone? I was so embarrassed!” both sisters giggled “And then you gave me that monstrous machine that you stole from the institute6 and just said 'Have fun’.” The memory tinted Waverly’s face red. 

“I told you I cleaned it.” Wynonna replied, “Hey, they used it to treat hysterical women. It’s practically medicine!” She stated. 

She gave Waverly the bottle, who took a deep sip. Wynonna tried her hardest to keep a straight face but failed. “It's not my fault that women are not meant to have a sex drive. How on earth are you supposed to have great sex if you don’t know what you enjoy? Society is the one acting ridiculous here, not me!” 

Waverly chuckled “Well, I'm thankful that you forced me to talk about it, but it is a scandalous topic nevertheless.” She looked around in case somebody could overhear them. 

Wynonna put on a shocked face, “Just talk? No skill without practice.” She winked. “What’s family planning for? Not that _you_ need that.” 

They kept talking and laughing like that for hours before they finally went to bed as well. 

**Sunday, August 23** **rd** **,** **1931**

The next morning, a grey envelope lay under the front door. Waverly was up first and inspected the mailer, when the other two joined her at the kitchen table. 

Wynonna unceremoniously took the envelope out of her hands and opened it. She took three pieces of paper out. All of them smiled with disbelief. She triumphally held up three tickets for the Comedian Harmonists concert next Monday. Nothing else was in the envelope, and not a single clue who had sent it. 

Waverly smiled, looking at the tickets, none of them could fathom their luck, when they heard a sharp knock on their door. Looking at each other, Wynonna shrugged. Waverly made a curious face and Nicole shook her head. None of them were expecting a visitor. 

Wynonna opened the door and there stood Inspector Nedley in a long light brown coat and hat, his mouth, surrounded with light stubble, was just a tight line, with a disapproving frown on his forehead. “I’d like to talk to Miss Haught, please,” he said in an official tone. 

Wynonna stepped aside and let him into the small apartment. He went inside and sat down at the kitchen table opposite to Nicole and Waverly, putting his head down on the table. 

“You were seen at a women’s march, Miss Haught. One that got quite a bit out of hand and ended with a fight none the less,” he said reproachful. 

“Shit!” Nicole cursed, “they attacked us without provocation, Sir.” 

He paused and looked at her with a frown, “You can’t join the police if your record isn’t clean, and you know even rumours can finish your chances to join the force.” 

Nicole’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise, her voice a pitch higher than normal. “It wasn’t our fault, we only defended ourselves!” 

“This time,” he said with a gravel voice, “I made sure this incident won’t haunt you, because I’m convinced you’ll make a good addition. But I won’t do that again. You should be more careful about who you’re seen with in the future.” 

“Wait,” Wynonna interrupted ignoring the Inspector “You want to become a police secretary? Why?” 

“Not a secretary, Wynonna, a police officer.” Nicole corrected her crossing her arms. 

Wynonna looked from Nicole to the Inspector “Can she do that?” 

The Inspector relaxed his posture and smiled leniently, his round face softer now, “well, there is a female force for sexual assault and cases involving children. On top of that, I would occasionally discuss my cases with her and get her exceptional insight.” He took his hat and placed it back on his head, “That’s all I wanted to say. Enjoy your Sunday, ladies,” he said and left them alone. 

**Monday, August 24** **th** **,** **1931**

On Monday afternoon they left the tram at Potsdam square and went to Bernburger Street. The monumental building with the number 22 dominated the short street. 

Waverly showed their tickets to a young concierge at the entrance. The hall was located in a rear building, in the biggest of the three music halls. To get in, they first had to go through a kind of colonnade, leading into an open courtyard. Crossing the courtyard, they entered the actual hall building. 

They went through a simple foyer to the rectangular, elongated concert hall. 

“Wait, that was just the lobby?” Wynonna asked stunned, after they finally entered the concert hall. 

Nicole chuckled lightly “Well, the house had been rebuilt a couple of times. Originally it was a roller-skating rink.” She gestured to the hall they were standing in. Free-standing wooden chairs stood in neat rows divided into four blocks. In between the blocks were wide paths to all three entrances. Most of the seats were already occupied by guests dressed in Sunday attire. On the left and right long sides of the hall were two storeys of roofed loges with chairs and tables. 

On the first floor more loges surrounded the hall with heavy curtains behind the seating. Above everything Wynonna saw medallions with portraits of composers attached to the walls. Two roof lights lit up the room in addition to the electric lights on the walls. 

They didn’t go directly to their seats but walked around and observed the other attendees. 

The music hall had seating for 2500 guests. It wouldn’t be easy to find a single person in such a big crowd. Lucky for them Friedrich von Liegnitz was noble and proud of his status. So of course he had a loge on the first floor. He sat in the company of what appeared to be an elderly couple talking animatedly. 

Wynonna, Waverly and Nicole swiftly went to the first floor, acting like they belonged. Nobody stopped them. They found the door that led to Mr. Von Liegnitz loge, but too many people were walking by in the hallway. Even when they slowly walked along the door, none of them heard a single word from the other side. 

The sound of a gong announced the time for guests to take their seats. The performance would begin soon. They went back to the hall and took their seats. The wooden chairs, without any cushioning, pressed hard and uncomfortable against their backs. 

“I swear, Germans just love pain. That’s the only explanation for these chairs!” Wynonna scolded. 

A man with a white full beard sitting behind them leaned forward and said with a heavy Bavarian dialect, “Only the _Saupreiß_.” 

“The what?” Wynonna asked back in surprise. She never heard that term before. 

“The Prussian Pigs.” He clarified. “They all have sticks up their asses, no sense of humour and think all achievements have to be painful.” He grinned at her and winked, settling back into his seat where he was sitting comfortably on a red cushion. 

After the third gong, six men in tailcoats entered the stage. One of them sat down at a piano, the rest of the group stood like a choir. Their songs were harmonic and light hearted with titles like 'My little green cactus', which Wynonna liked for the idea of throwing the plant at people she didn’t like. 

The first part of the performance ended with the wonderful song 'A friend, a good friend'. 

During the break, the guests went to the entrance hall. They lost sight of Mr. Von Liegnitz when he left his loge, while the elderly couple remained in their seats. “They must have better chairs”, Wynonna said to the other women as they stood up and tried to find their suspect in the moving crowd. 

In the courtyard employees handed out canapés and champagne, while the guests gathered in small groups. The three women roamed the place, looking for their suspect, when Wynonna unexpectedly saw the chunky stature of Alexander Ulanow standing in a group of people. They locked eyes and Alexander Ulanow winked at her. He had a nasty cut on his lower lip. Wynonna stared in disbelieve. It took a moment to wrap her head around the newfound information, puzzling the pieces together. Then she pulled herself together, smiled back and went on to search for the man she was actually looking for. 

She spotted Nicole, who gestured her to come over. When she closed the gap, she saw Waverly looking at the other end of the room where Friedrich von Liegnitz just went up the stairs. Wynonna wanted to follow him, but her sister held her back. “Wait, I know a shortcut.” 

As Waverly led the way Wynonna asked, “how can you afford tickets for this place?” 

“I can’t, but remember the cooking contest I attended?” She smiled brightly, “That was held here.” They sprinted up the stairs, but slowed their pace on the first floor to draw less attention. Nicole first spotted their suspect. They managed to follow him but had to fall back when he went to a less crowed part of the building. He disappeared behind a curtain, where he was greeted by another voice. 

“You keep watch.” Wynonna pushed Nicole toward the entrance, then followed her sister through the curtain. 

“Germany will get its place in the sun after all.” A dark, unfamiliar voice said proudly. 

“Don't get ahead of yourself. We'll need four more foci for the ritual to be successful,” the aristocrat hissed, “Right now, all we have is the painting.” 

Wynonna shifted her weight to get a little closer. 

The dark voice spoke again, “Fine, but soon we’ll have all we need. We have one foot in the door of Pergamon Museum and wednesday at the market, I’ll meet with a marketeer for another focus.” He sounded self-satisfied. 

“Don’t be rash,“ the noble man said, annoyed, “go meet the man at Spittelmarkt and come to my house afterwards. If you’re successful, we can celebrate, but not before that.” They heard rustling behind the curtain. “Don’t lose the money and remember, I don’t give second chances.” 

The footsteps were barely audible due to the thick carpet, but Waverly and Wynonna were quick on their feet. They were almost around the next corner when the two men left the hidden room. Wynonna looked back to see a small man, maybe 25 years old with a lean figure, light brown hair and a neatly trimmed beard standing next to the aristocrat. Their eyes met. He had seen her! 

Hurrying, they went back to the music hall. There was no need to waste the concert tickets and it gave them the opportunity to vanish in the crowd. On their way back the sisters explained to Nicole what they heard, and Wynonna gave a description of the man she saw. 

“But I think, he saw me as well. He might recognise me.” 

She was interrupted by the sound of the gong. They sat back down and enjoyed the rest of the concert. Afterwards they’d have enough time to plan their next move. 

Later that evening, the group sat again around the table at Zauberkönig. 

“Wednesday is a weekly market, there are almost always the same marketeers present. I doubt he’ll meet with a greengrocer or fruit merchant.” Waverly ended their roundup of the evening events. 

“Well done,” Dolls said, “we should pick and observe the likely contacts and maybe have an eye around the market too. How many people can make it on Wednesday?” 

“I’ll be there!” Wynonna exclaimed. She could sew the commissions any other day, but Waverly was concerned. “Should you be there? The man saw you at the music hall. You said yourself that he might recognise you.” 

“I’m also the only one who saw him, and I’ll stay in the background, I promise.” She said holding her hand over her heart, but her face said she wouldn’t miss this chance. 

“We need everyone we can get to survey the whole marketplace,” Dolls said, “just please be careful, Wynonna.” 

Jeremy had some meetings at the institute that day, but Doc would close his practice for the day and Waverly and Nicole would switch their work shifts. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this little musical journey.

**Author's Note:**

> For anyone who is interested in a better picture of Berlin in 1930s I found this 10 minute video: https://www.youtube.com/watch? v=fHNLXijfiTg


End file.
